Humility

On the path of practising the Buddha's Teaching, to achieve immeasurable virtuous conduct and immeasurable merit, we must cultivate the three most important basic qualities of mind and conduct. Only from these three can countless other wholesome things arise in succession. These three are:

• First, reverence for the Buddha

• Second, loving-kindness and compassion

• Third, the humble mind.

These three qualities are like the three legs of a tripod cauldron, the vessel on which we can then place countless other treasures of the process of practice.

Countless other virtuous practices, such as forbearance, altruism, composure, equality, joyfulness and so on… can be well accomplished only on the foundation of these three.

1. CONCEIT IS A GREAT ILLNESS OF HUMANKIND

If we practise patiently, we will gather more and more good merit, accumulate much excellent merit, and gradually achieve much success. That is certain. It means that from the very beginning we went in the right direction and made few mistakes, which is why good results come later.

But the irony is that from these very right and beautiful things, a mistake arises. That is the conceited mind.

The conceited mind is a kind of feeling of relish, glee, gratification and delight on seeing ourselves surpass others.

Surpassing or falling behind each other is an ordinary matter in the world. Sometimes we surpass others, sometimes others surpass us. When we surpass, we still know we do; when others surpass, they know they do. That is ordinary and not wrong. What is dangerous is the feeling of glee that goes with it. That glee gives a person a feeling of happiness.

Many people even fall into the illusion that they surpass others when in fact they fall far short. But when they consider themselves better than others, gladness and delight are present all the same.

Every time we enjoy joy and happiness, we always use up some of the merit we created in the past; that is the necessary law of cause and effect. But some joys do not use up much merit, for example the feeling of happiness when we do charitable work. Or there are even kinds of joy that increase merit, for example when we rejoice on seeing others succeed and be happy, in accordance with the mind of Sympathetic Joy among the Four Immeasurables.

For the rest, almost all enjoyment of joy uses up merit from the past. However, there is one pleasure which, when we enjoy it, causes us incalculable loss: the delight of thinking we surpass others. That pleasure, that thought, is called the conceited mind.

For example, in study, sometimes we outdo our classmates; in business, sometimes we are more successful than colleagues; in the arts, sometimes we are more admired than other artists; in teaching, sometimes we attract more than other fellow practitioners, and so on… These are all ordinary things in this world, because life is by nature full of such differences of better and worse. But when a feeling of glee and relish at being better than others appears in us, that is when disaster begins. That conceited mind will first of all break the good qualities already in our heart. For example, we used to be composed, but after a time of conceit, that composure will disappear and be replaced by rashness, haste and a quick temper. For example, we used to be gentle, but after a time of conceit we become wicked. Or we used to live a simple and pure life, but after a time of conceit we become corrupted, and so on…

After the good qualities in the mind have disappeared, it is certain that we will begin to do many wrong and mistaken things that seriously damage our merit. For example, we will begin to take an overbearing attitude, looking down on others, or shouting, scolding and cursing, or scheming and using tricks, or sinking into depravity…

After merit is used up, talent gradually disappears. According to the law of cause and effect, merit gives rise to talent. When merit is gone, talent goes with it. An article in the magazine Giác Ngộ titled "Living Zen" tells of a nun who attained awakening in a monastery in Korea. After awakening, she abandoned her responsibility for looking after the cooking and left, although senior monastics had encouraged her to continue her voluntary service until the fixed term was complete. A Bodhisattva also appeared in a dream warning that if she did not complete her service to the full, she would later be unable to teach the Dharma. But the nun ignored all that advice and left. And as predicted, she was unable to teach the Dharma for the rest of her life, though she had a great reputation for her practice.

Another story. There was a young bhikkhu who was weak in study compared with the community. Because he knew his learning was poor, he was very diligent in voluntary service. All the hard and heavy jobs in the temple he took on, such as building roads, pumping water, even sewing clothes for his fellow monks. Later he attended a course in preaching and then went to be abbot of a temple in the Mekong Delta, and began to teach here and there, very much liked by lay Buddhists. Many fellow monks were surprised at this unexpected result; before, everyone had thought he could never sit on the teaching platform.

Stories like these show a law of cause and effect: merit creates talent. We should keep diligently doing meritorious work and other virtues will gradually open up.

Conversely, when conceit appears, other good qualities are broken; when good qualities are broken, unwholesome karma is created; when unwholesome karma is created, merit is used up; when merit is used up, talent disappears too. That is the inevitable process of the conceited mind.

So from fine successes, from precious abilities, from outstanding strengths, we give rise to the conceited mind. And then that conceited mind brings us back to being ordinary as at the beginning when we had nothing. At the very moment of success, the seed of failure is present; at the very moment of skill, the seed of mediocrity has begun to stir; at the very moment we gain a strength, the seed of a weakness is born. That is a painful paradox which makes it hard for beings to break through and rise to become a transcendent saint. All of it is only because of the conceited mind.

Understanding this, we must practise and prepare the humble mind very carefully in advance to welcome the successes that come into our lives. Because of merit from past lives, who knows, we may also have some notable successes in life. Now we have nothing, but who knows what wonder will come tomorrow. But if we lack enough humility, future successes will be a road leading to hell!

The successive dynasties of kings in history do not escape this harsh law either. Usually the first kings are people who rose from hardship and know how to live modestly because of their ordinary origins. It is precisely that modest way of life, keeping oneself in strict check, that lets merit be accomplished. But the descendants of later generations are bowed to and waited upon from the moment they open their eyes at birth, and grow up amid everyone's praise. Because they live from childhood in the "toxic" environment of such reverence, princes and princesses seem unable to know what it is to feel ordinary or inferior, and always consider themselves above others. They are forced into conceit. Because of conceit, the good qualities of their forefathers no longer exist. The dynasty gradually declines because the later kings are so poor.

For example, King Lý Thái Tổ, who founded the Lý dynasty, was accomplished in both letters and arms, and cultivated both talent and virtue. The king was proficient in military treatises and battle formations, martial arts, arithmetic, physiognomy, medicine and literature. He could leap over an ordinary roof. The monk Vạn Hạnh was an extraordinary man, who taught the king the full range of abilities of an outstanding leader. So the king was given trust and entered the capital to command the whole palace guard protecting the citadel before the court officials raised him to the throne. The king's talent and virtue won the admiration of the whole court, so when King Lê Ngọa Triều died, the court officials had to think of this man of dignified authority, outstanding talent and lofty ethics.

To understand extraordinary figures in history, historians must be extremely intelligent or have abilities nearly like theirs. Sadly, when historians reconstruct the image of great figures, they often do not understand them fully, simply because they have no knowledge of the subjects the ancients mastered; they are skilled only in literary writing.

The kings who followed also kept Lý Thái Tổ's virtue in talent and in practising the Buddha's Teaching, and so were trusted and loved by the whole people. By the reigns of Lý Cao Tông and Lý Huệ Tông, merit was exhausted, and Trần Thủ Độ seized the throne. But some princes who escaped to Korea also achieved brilliant feats, and helped Korea defeat the Mongol army. At that time we Vietnamese had defeated the Mongol army in two places, one in our homeland and one in Korea; one even rose to be a Korean prime minister.

The Trần dynasty was the same: its first kings were extremely able and devoted to the Buddha's Teaching no less than the Lý kings. King Trần Thái Tông was truly a lay Zen master, who left valuable works on Zen and Buddhist studies. Kings Thánh Tông and Nhân Tông lived like saints. King Nhân Tông in particular left home to become the first patriarch of the Trúc Lâm Yên Tử Zen school. But the later kings declined, and in the end Hồ Quý Ly seized the throne, just as Thủ Độ had treated the Lý.

The Trần dynasty alone produced a truly outstanding Trần Quốc Tuấn. He led the army superbly to defeat the Mongol army three times, keeping the realm intact. Like other princes of the Trần, Quốc Tuấn was also expert in martial arts, military treatises and battle formations, and also admired the Buddha's Teaching. The princes of the Trần and the Lý were alike in being very skilled in "inner power", a special discipline of martial arts aimed at creating extraordinary strength, very like Zen and yoga. It was this inner-power discipline that created the unyielding spirit of the officers and soldiers of that time, alongside the gentle manner of Buddhism. In his later years, when the affairs of state were at peace, he turned to deep Zen meditation.

Buddhism too does not escape that law. In periods when the Buddha's Teaching flourished, from the king to the officials all admired the path and respected the Sangha. Temples were constantly bowed to and given offerings. Monastics were a class who received many favours. Living in an atmosphere where everywhere they go they are revered, bowed to and honoured by everyone, only a saint can keep the mind unmoved; the rest mostly cannot help feeling pleased and proud, and gradually come to conceit. Even so, if from the time of entering the temple the practitioner had been carefully trained in the humble mind, they would not be made excessively conceited by everyone's reverence. But sadly, for a long time temples did not know how to prepare newcomers for the humble mind, so in circumstances of ease and abundant favour, practitioners were struck down by the conceited mind.

The first true masters were usually people of lofty virtue who spread the Buddha's Teaching so that everyone from officials to common people admired and respected them. Later monastics had nothing very distinguished about them but still enjoyed the benefit of that favour, and so easily gave rise to self-importance and conceit.

Once conceit has set in, as we know, the practitioner's good qualities gradually vanish, unwholesome karma is gradually created, and the Buddha's Teaching slides downhill accordingly. Then we will see monastics who are often greedy, selfish, grasping, speaking ill of each other, slandering one another, calculating wins and losses, with flaws and breaches in their pure conduct… The practitioner's spiritual powers gradually dry up. People looking on increasingly laugh, criticise, slander and disparage the whole Buddha's Teaching. That is the stage at which the Buddha's Teaching truly enters a dangerous period of decline.

At that time some Bodhisattva in the heavens may see this and, moved, vow to be born in the human world to revive it, and the Buddha's Teaching will flourish temporarily once more. We are fortunate that there are Bodhisattvas who always watch over the state of the Buddha's Teaching and step in to rescue it.

The state of the Buddha's Teaching now is neither clearly declining nor clearly flourishing. Not declining, because we still see many people following the Buddha, temples continuing to develop and the teaching still preached here and there. But not flourishing either, because monastics have still not gained the strong faith and love of the public and are still divided and speaking ill of each other.

Buddhism today does not yet have the good fortune of old, of being revered by kings and admired by officials. Among monastics there are good people and also bad people, whereas properly the proportion of genuine practitioners should be the great majority. This is truly a state of being suspended in between.

The responsibility of monastics and lay Buddhists today is to make the Buddha's Teaching clearly flourish again, to end this suspended, half-and-half state. This responsibility is very difficult and heavy, but it can still be done; it is not yet the time when the Buddha's Teaching has fully declined. When the Buddha's Teaching has fully declined, only Bodhisattvas can appear to raise it up; we do not have the strength.

But to bring out the Buddha's Teaching, we must start from ourselves first, not start by building temples. We should not be impatient to rush about campaigning here and there but should quietly cultivate ethics in ourselves first. Many days and months of cultivating ethics and the spirit will give us a strange power to persuade everyone to practise genuinely again. Then every word we speak will be heavy as a mountain, strong as a storm, and as gripping as a deep whirlpool, so that many people must wake up.

As more and more people wake up and practise genuinely, Buddhism begins to flourish again gradually. That is the most correct road.

Whoever has struggled hard against their own faults, purified their inner mind, learned to respect everyone, kept the humble mind, regarded themselves as dust, sand and straw, spread love to all beings, and quietly practised meditation to gather the mind… will form what is called strength in the path. From this strength in the path, those who hear us speak are shaken fiercely, can no longer sit still and must step forward. Without strength in the path, listeners gradually grow bored, because they vaguely know that the speaker is only repeating emptily what they learned and has not practised first.

A person with experience in practice understands the route and the steps in detail and naturally presents the matter more thoroughly and in more detail, so listeners understand more easily. A person who does not practise talks around in circles for a while without touching reality, so listeners cannot learn how to practise.

For example, when we speak about loving-kindness and compassion, if we have practised beforehand, listeners naturally feel a force of love passed on to them that compels them to keep passing love on to others. If the speaker does not practise, listeners are not moved and feel no need to love anyone further.

Even monastics are the same: if they listen to talks from empty hearts, they do not want to practise. So for the Buddha's Teaching to flourish, each of us must practise much more diligently and carefully. And practice must begin by examining our own faults first. Among faults of ethics, conceit is the first door opening the way into the realm of ghosts.

Factors that make us conceited

One, surpassing others in talent. This is the clearest main cause leading to conceit. Usually a talented person who surpasses others is most easily respected, so people often compete with each other in talent to win everyone's admiration. Once someone has talent, the glee of feeling better than others takes over their mind. That is conceit because of talent.

For example, among singers, one easily has the feeling of singing best; among painters, one feels one's paintings are the most beautiful. Even Buddhist lecturers still have the thought that they preach best.

So a talented person must know how to eliminate conceit, know how to respect everyone, and always hope that everyone becomes better than themselves.

Two, surpassing others in position or qualifications. A person with greater office or power naturally must be obeyed and respected by more people. Precisely because they are often respected and obeyed by many, those in high position easily become conceited because of their office. For example, a person who is chairman will have the notion of being chairman clinging to their mind each time they deal with people, unable to forget it. Properly, one should remember only the responsibility of being chairman that one must shoulder rather than the position of chairman. Many national leaders have a very humble attitude simply because they know how to forget their position when dealing with others.

Three, surpassing others in age. Almost everyone is subject to conceit about age, except those who die young. By Eastern custom, the young must respect their elders. This is a fine trait of Eastern culture. In Vietnam in particular, to express respect we also have very many pronouns that distinguish clearly between those above and those below.

And so, when we are small, the number of older people to respect, such as grandparents, aunts, uncles and older siblings, fills our surroundings. Therefore, without meaning to, we develop the humble mind, and when we have the humble mind, we will accomplish much good merit later. As we grow up, the elders we respect die off one by one, and younger people such as children, grandchildren and juniors who must respect us increase. We enter an environment of being respected, entirely opposite to when we were small. This is the dangerous moment, because when we are "made" to be respected so much, we fall into the delight of conceit without knowing when. We are pushed into conceit without wanting it. And as said, conceit quickly spoils the mind.

A Vietnamese proverb says, "Age brings quirks, as earth brings weeds" (Già sinh tật, đất sinh cỏ), which our grandparents distilled from real life experience. They saw that when people grow old they naturally become fussy, irritable and sulky, and called it age bringing quirks, without understanding why, supposing that age bringing quirks was as natural as earth bringing weeds. In fact the "quirks" are a sign of a spoiled mind, caused by conceit. Before we are conceited about age, we are easily generous, forgiving, gentle and likeable. Once we have conceit about age, the likeable qualities of youth gradually disappear, and we begin to answer back, lie in bed refusing to eat, and complain and sulk over all kinds of things, making children and grandchildren miserable.

To avoid that illness of quirks in old age, we must prepare to cultivate the humble mind from now; otherwise in old age we make our children and grandchildren suffer.

Even monastics are the same: the greater their years in the path, the more easily they become conceited about seniority. The rites of respect in Buddhism are much stricter than in ordinary life, so newcomers are obliged to show very great respect to those who have practised long. And that harsh psychological law spares no one. A person who has practised long will also become conceited, even more than worldly people, because of seniority in the path, if they do not deeply cultivate the humble mind.

In fact, as the Buddha said, only by attaining arhatship are the roots of conceit pulled out completely. Even at the third fruit, non-returner, conceit among the five lower fetters is still present. Only fully attaining arhatship ends that fetter of conceit completely. So although we have not yet attained arhatship, which means we have not yet fully ended conceit, by skilfully cultivating the Humble Mind we can restrain our own thoughts so as not to create the karma of boasting or looking down on others.

Four, when we are respected and obeyed by others. There are many reasons for being respected and obeyed by others, but once we are respected and obeyed, the conceited mind very easily appears.

By human psychology, everyone wants to be respected and obeyed. We like going only where we are respected, and keep away from places where we are looked down on. Everyone is the same, everyone needs to be loved and respected. Knowing this, we must cultivate our ethics so that we can love and respect everyone in full. We practise loving-kindness and compassion in order to love; we practise humility in order to respect. We may not have money or material things to give to everyone, and sometimes do not yet have enough of the Buddha's Teaching to share with others, but we can have a great deal of Love and Respect to offer to life and to people. That love and respect also make each other feel peaceful and warm.

When lay Buddhists come to a temple, they do not have direct contact with the Buddha. They rely only on monastics to seek the Dharma and spiritual support. But to be a spiritual support for lay Buddhists, monastics must have very great love. People rely only on a place where there is a trace of Love. So those who have left home must not hold hatred, jealousy or selfishness for long. They must break them quickly, the sooner the better.

Besides, we must also have respect for lay Buddhists. In principle, lay people must revere monastics; in Vietnam lay Buddhists even address monastics as "I, child" regardless of age. But the ethics of humility also oblige monastics to respect lay Buddhists in return. We must not think that it is the duty of lay people and that we are not bound likewise. In fact both must respect each other; only the way of respecting differs on each side. Lay people respect monastics in accordance with the duty of a younger sibling or pupil. Monastics respect lay Buddhists in accordance with the duty of Buddha's disciples to one another, of people to people; and they must also love lay Buddhists as one who has gone before loves one who comes after. Remember that as long as someone is a human being, everyone needs and deserves love and respect. We must not forget this.

We should not demand respect for ourselves, because that is ambition and conceit, but we have a duty to respect others. This is the principle of ethics.

We must be especially skilful in treasuring poor, sick and disabled lay Buddhists, because they very easily feel sorry for themselves. A practitioner must have enough strength in the path to see them sitting quietly in some corner of the temple courtyard. Why say it takes enough strength in the path to see them? Because before our eyes we are blocked by the richer and more elegant people. Without love for beings, we will not see the poor who are present in the temple.

The conceited mind also gives rise to an even more terrible craving: ambition for power. This too is a very deep-seated human instinct, and very dangerous. The reason people want power is that power gives them the right to decide the fate of others, and lets others obey, fear and revere them.

In struggles for power, human beings have soaked this whole planet in blood. At a small level of power struggle, people only attack and speak ill of one another a little. But at a large level of power struggle, such as at the scale of nations, matters are not simple at all, and people are ready to kill each other without pity.

If we like others to obey us, we already harbour a hidden ambition for power. A person who practises rightly likes to obey others in order to destroy the self, especially to obey those who are wise and of lofty virtue. A person who does not know how to practise likes to be obeyed by others. That is a sign of conceit, ambition, clinging to self, and of course wrongdoing.

Conceit destroys merit and character

At a low level, conceit gradually destroys our good qualities and makes us worse. Even the very notion of regarding ourselves as better than others is already bad.

At a high level, conceit shows itself outwardly and makes us do many wicked things, which may lead to falling into hell later.

Conceit always leads to pollution; that is an absolutely true principle! Pollution shows itself in the following five things:

Hot temper – Craving for love – Craving for sensual pleasure – Craving for material things – Fondness for appearances

First is hot temper. When we have conceit, we flare up easily whenever something goes against our wishes.

A practitioner is not always easygoing, giving in and passive; sometimes one must take a clear stance towards others' wrong actions. But when scolding, a person who flares up and one who does not are very different. A composed person can put on a stern face so that the offender learns to fear, but inside is not "on fire". A person who flares up has a mind that "bursts", with a real feeling of fire in the heart. Such a person's manner will look fierce, aggressive, sometimes fidgety; it may frighten people but does not much win their submission.

The humble mind makes us calm and gives us authority, so that we can look on in silence and still make the offender fear. The conceited mind makes us flare up and lack dignity, so that others are not much convinced.

Second is craving for love. Third is craving for sensual pleasure. Craving for love and craving for sensual pleasure differ a little.

Craving for love is the affection between man and woman. Craving for sensual pleasure is fondness for sensual desire. Usually craving for love leads to craving for sensual pleasure, as when a man and woman fall in love and proceed to marriage. But sometimes there is craving for sensual pleasure even without affection, as in the cases of buying and selling sex that the newspapers keep reporting.

When conceit is full, craving for sensual pleasure and craving for love will gradually appear, even if before that we kept ourselves pure. There are people who practise in a special school and can develop a kind of supernatural power for healing, prophecy and changing circumstances. But because they do not skilfully keep the humble mind, these people gradually come under the sway of conceit. And by the harsh law of psychology, once conceit appears, craving for love and craving for sensual pleasure follow.

Fourth is craving for material things. Before, when we were not conceited, we could live simply and frugally, without needing much material wealth, give easily, live at peace in the present, not worry about whether tomorrow would be short or enough, and not like to accumulate. But if conceit is present in the mind, everything slowly changes. We will feel that money is important, like being rich, accumulate and become greedy. That is precisely a sign of pollution.

Fifth is fondness for appearances. While we are humble, we put great emphasis on real substance, on the mind and wisdom. Appearances of course need to be there but are not given much attention. For example, with a temple, we will care more about the community's study and practice than about decorating the grounds; with charitable work, we will care more about the people who need help than about display.

As long as we can keep the humble mind, these five pollutions stay a little away from us for the time being. Only a little, not gone for good. Then when conceit appears in our mind, these five pollutions rush in at once. So a practitioner must skilfully keep the humble mind for life so as not to be overrun by pollution. We must be constantly vigilant towards the conceited mind, and learn to recognise the conceited thought quickly, just as it begins to stir. This ability to recognise the conceited thought quickly, just as it begins to stir, is wisdom. Wisdom in Buddhism is the ability to control one's own mistaken thoughts; knowledge and understanding are only the initial foundation.

As we have said, the summit of wisdom in Buddhism is no-self. We must always aim at this summit to keep our route of practice from going astray. Sometimes we turn a little right, sometimes a little left, but if we always aim at that summit of No-self, we need not fear losing the way.

However, no-self is not simple at all. Some people who practise meditative concentration reach the first jhāna, see their mind empty as if nothing remains in it, see their mind like a bottomless abyss, feel as though they have let go and hold nothing, and so think they have realised no-self. In truth at that time the self is still very large. Then in the second jhāna all stray thoughts are extinguished and the mind is like boundless heaven and earth, leaving the practitioner no doubt that they have realised something very high. Little do they suspect that the self is still smiling arrogantly.

We must understand that no-self means becoming the whole universe. This meaning is very great. So never make light of the dangerous existence of the self, and never make light of the transcendent value of no-self.

In fact we keep hearing teaching on the meaning of no-self, and sometimes in sitting meditation we contemplate no-self a little, by contemplating that this body is illusory and not me, and that these successive changing thoughts are illusory and not me. We hope that contemplating no-self like this will take the right road to no-self. But in fact practising no-self like this lacks a foundation. Why? Because we have not skilfully passed through the practice of the humble mind.

Contemplating no-self as above is also good, it makes body and mind lighter and we can still gather the mind. But the very strange thing is that conceit still lurks and exists. This is truly strange. That is why we say that if we do not practise humility, contemplating no-self as above is still not thorough.

Conceit is only a notion with no substance, yet it can govern a person's mind and character. It is only a notion of regarding oneself as better than others. When we contemplate that this body and mind are not real, we do not strike directly at that notion of regarding ourselves as better than others. So although we see our mind lighter, we still have not removed the notion of self-conceit.

Therefore, we must wisely pass through the path of practising humility to eliminate that hidden conceited notion before going deeper into contemplating no-self. Practising humility so that we see ourselves as ordinary and small as dust, sand and straw is not yet the summit of wisdom, but it is extremely necessary.

2. CULTIVATING HUMILITY

a. Asking for the Buddha's support

Before practising the humble mind, we must know to bow to the Buddha and ask for support, because all good merit is accomplished from the merit of reverence for the Buddha. Reverence for the Buddha is the basic merit underlying all other merit.

There are two extremes to avoid, namely:

one, insisting that everything must be created by oneself, without relying on anyone outside, including the Buddha. A person who insists on this is extremely conceited, especially whenever they have a little success. And such a person does not succeed in the long term; failure will come early.

two, begging for everything and waiting for gods and spirits to help, unwilling to make an effort or create merit through one's own endeavour. Such a person seems humble but is in fact weak, feeble and selfish. Of course, without creating merit, no success will come to us either.

The Middle Way is to know both how to make personal effort and how to ask the Buddha for support. We must make personal effort because we know there is the law of cause and effect: only if there is sowing is there reaping. If we do not try to act, nothing will happen at all.

And we must know to ask the Buddha for support because the self does not really exist, so the Buddha's compassion and power can still reach our mind. If the self were real, no one could respond to anyone, because each person would be a hard, solid block of stone.

We kneel before the Buddha's altar and sincerely make the vow: may the Buddhas of the ten directions support me so that I always see myself as ordinary and small, as only dust, sand and straw; may I know how to respect everyone, even the poor, wretched and lowly.

Thanks to that vow, whenever the conceited thought arises, the Buddha will naturally help us detect it quickly and not let us fall into error.

b. During sitting meditation

When we begin sitting meditation, we start the practice by arousing reverence for the Buddha, contemplating compassion, and setting the intention of humility. In setting the intention of humility, we must regard ourselves as dust, as straw.

A lay Buddhist woman who had once suffered from mental illness visited the temple. The abbot saw that the cause of her illness was conceit, and advised her to set the intention of seeing herself as dust, sand and straw in order to treat the sickness of the mind. A few days later, when asked again, she said she could not regard herself as dust, sand and straw because she thought she was a decent person. The abbot said her self was too hard for her to regard herself as dust, sand and straw, while very many people can do so. She seemed to realise it. Later she made the effort to practise accordingly, and her mental illness naturally eased until she could go to work.

We too, when sitting in meditation, should regard ourselves as dust, sand and straw, and remember the Buddha's merit, vast and immeasurable. The little merit we may do today, such as chanting, giving, making offerings, teaching the Dharma, building temples… is like a grain of sand compared with the Buddha. The Buddha's merit is like the vast ocean and we are only a drop of water; the Buddha's merit is like a high mountain and we are only a speck of dust.

When the Buddha appeared in his last life, the world did not yet have today's technical means, people could not yet communicate widely across vast lands, so the Buddha taught only back and forth around Nepal and north-east India. The number of people the Buddha guided cannot be called very great. But we must understand that before and after are different. From countless past lives, the Buddha had planted bonds to teach beings, boundless and immeasurable, in countless manifestations.

So in the Mahayana scriptures the Bodhisattva Samantabhadra says: With the eye of the path I look over the whole three-thousandfold great world system and see no place where the Buddha did not give up his own life for beings. This means the Buddha's sacrifice for beings is without shore. Only with such nearly absolute altruistic practice can a person attain Buddhahood. And only Bodhisattvas can understand this, because they too are practising the Bodhisattva path, and so can understand the Buddha in this way.

Countless beings, thanks to the Buddha's teaching, still dwell in the heavens. When the Buddha attained the path, a great number of devas came to learn the path from the Buddha.

And after the Buddha's passing away, the influence the Buddha left for humankind is priceless. Today, as people's level of understanding rises, intellectuals around the world must acknowledge that Buddhism is the most noble of all humankind's religions.

With our shallow minds as ordinary beings, we cannot understand the Buddha as the Bodhisattvas do. It is precisely because he understood the Buddha that the Bodhisattva Samantabhadra presented the ten noble practices of the Bodhisattvas, among which the first practice is to pay homage and reverence to all the Buddhas. Today, whatever practice we follow, we must take the practice of reverence for the Buddha as the foundation. If any method or any master presents various methods of practice but lacks the practice of reverence for the Buddha, that path still lacks a foundation. For example, the six perfections, which include giving, keeping precepts, forbearance, diligence, meditative concentration and wisdom, still lack Reverence for the Buddha. Or insisting that one's own mind is already Buddha and having no zeal to revere the Buddha is still to lose the foundation.

When sitting in meditation, because we understand the Buddha's immeasurable merit, we know ourselves to be only dust, sand and straw. If we do not understand this, we keep thinking we are very good, very lofty, very important, far better than others… which is truly pitiful. Sometimes in life we too do some good things, but let us soberly remember that these are nothing compared with the saints. Only by understanding this can we sincerely regard ourselves as only dust, sand and straw. Otherwise, even if we think of ourselves as dust, it is not sincere and is very forced.

The more wisdom we gain in understanding the Buddha, the more humble our mind naturally becomes; that is why a wise person is usually humble; conversely, a person of little wisdom easily becomes conceited. When our humility is enough, we ask only to be a speck of dust where the Buddha's foot passes.

c. When we have the chance to acquire special knowledge

Sometimes we are fortunate to be taught some special knowledge, or to find such knowledge ourselves; we must soberly and quickly see that such understanding is nothing compared with the saints, is still shallow, and is not yet the insight of realisation.

For example, when we study the Four Foundations of Mindfulness to contemplate that the body is impure, feeling is suffering, mind is impermanent, and phenomena are without self. We practise and find peace. Or following the teaching of Emptiness in the Prajñāpāramitā sūtras, we contemplate that everything is empty, and also feel the mind at peace. But we must understand this too: all of that is learning from the Buddha, repeated in our own mind to reduce stray thoughts and afflictions, and is not yet any deep and wondrous realisation. Even if we gain a little peace, it is still very shallow compared with the saints.

Let us recall the story of the Venerable Budai (the Sack Monk), a jolly, plump old man who always carried a big cloth sack on his shoulder. He often played with children and at times also showed extraordinary supernatural powers. No one knew who he was or where he came from, though they admired him for his character and wisdom. Only when he died, sitting in the full-lotus posture, he passed away after leaving this verse:

Maitreya, truly Maitreya,

Manifesting in hundreds of billions of bodies,

Always showing himself to people of the time,

Yet people of the time never recognise him.

That is to say:

Maitreya truly is Maitreya

Who has manifested in countless forms everywhere

Teaching everyone at all times

But people of the world often do not know.

Let us think: a person who can manifest in countless forms, either as concrete bodies or only as spirit, to come to countless beings in the paths of rebirth: no words can express such greatness. Compared with our present state, such realisation of mind really is the ocean against a drop of water. We have only sat in meditation for a few hours, understood a few scriptures, loved a few beings, and sometimes given a few Dharma talks, so we should not be quick to think ourselves great. Compared with the Buddha, we are only dust and sand; that is an accurate way of saying it, with no exaggeration at all.

For example, at the Buddhist academy, when we have studied the Diamond Sūtra, the Lotus Sūtra, or even the great Avataṃsaka Sūtra, that is still nothing formidable. Do not let such learning give rise to pride and conceit in our hearts.

d. When we are better than those around us

There are cases where, because of past merit combined with present effort, we achieve results better than those around us. For example, we are ranked high in class, or lay Buddhists cherish us and make us more offerings, or we get better qualifications than our fellow monks… In such cases, we must skilfully set our intention to prevent the conceited mind from appearing. Set the intention as follows.

First, think that although we are good, there are many who are better, and extremely good, not merely fairly good.

Second, compared with the saints we are only a speck of dust.

Third, if we become conceited because of this little bit of skill, we will lose everything and fall back into ordinariness.

Fourth, hope that the fellow practitioners around us will become better than ourselves.

We should not set the intention of seeing ourselves as worse than our fellow practitioners when in truth we are better, because Buddhism is the path of truthfulness. However, within that being better, we skilfully set reasonable intentions such as the above to block our own conceited mind.

e. When we see someone poor or inferior

There are cases where we meet someone excessively poor or inferior. Someone a little lacking or a little clumsy does not trouble us at all. But a person who is extremely bad easily makes us look down on them. Of course, if we scorn people, bad karmic results will come.

So when we meet someone who is extremely bad, we must know how to arouse loving-kindness and compassion and pity, and pray that they overcome that terrible state. If we can, we help them get through it, and absolutely never look down on them. The compassionate mind itself will block the mind of scorn from appearing. For example, we meet people who lack merit badly, with no home, living a hand-to-mouth existence on the pavement. Then sometimes we discover that their character is also very bad. The two together make us very easily look down on them. But because we are disciples of the Buddha, we must quickly arouse compassion and pity for them, hoping they learn the Dharma and do a few good deeds so as gradually to overcome their suffering. We also support the state's programme to settle homeless people in housing.

We must absolutely not rely on being a person of merit to look down on people in difficulty.

3. SIGNS THAT THE HUMBLE MIND APPEARS

a. Courtesy

Courtesy is a sign of humility. When we have the practice of Humility, we naturally always show an attitude of respect to others through words and gestures. Such expression is called courtesy, or good manners.

There are also cases where a person is arrogant inside but still shows good manners because they are used to behaving by the customs and culture of society. But such manners still look forced and insincere.

Polite manner shows in a gentle, attentive, respectful way of speaking, accompanied by many polite particles ("dạ", "thưa") and suitable forms of address… Besides respectful speech, good manners also include listening attentively and treasuring the words of others. Knowing how to listen is also knowing how to respect.

Then there are many gestures used to show respect to others, such as bowing in greeting, offering and receiving with both hands, bowing the head slightly when we must pass in front of someone, standing, sitting and lying in positions suited to the situation, a dignified posture in walking, standing, sitting and lying…

Even fellow practitioners who have lived in the same temple a long time must not be taken lightly, and must still treat each other politely. Wise people, even when close, do not behave in a coarse, over-familiar way. It is precisely because they always behave courteously towards each other that their friendship grows ever more lasting and beautiful. Make sure that when lay people come to the temple they always see the monks and nuns treating each other with gentle courtesy, like honoured guests.

Do not think that being a monastic gives us the right to look down on lay Buddhists. We must train in modesty so as always to respect everyone, whether monastic or lay. Polite particles should be always on our lips. Western etiquette today often uses the words thank you and sorry. We need to learn good things like that.

Young people today are less courteous than in the past because they are not taught carefully. The school does not teach carefully and the family does not guide them either. Precisely because of lack of courtesy, children lack modesty; precisely because they lack modesty, children easily go wrong. Only when seeing too many children going wrong does the school hurriedly recall the motto "first learn courtesy, then learn letters" (first learn ethics, and only afterwards learn knowledge). In any case we have lost several decades in educating children's character.

Japan is famous for courtesy and propriety, with a beautiful culture. Look at the Japanese greeting each other in the demanding way of bending the body right over to understand how much they value good manners. A country with a perfunctory way of greeting also shows that it is superficial in culture. I wish Japan could keep such a culture forever as an example to the world. However, at present the influence of the Western way of life is also battering Japan's traditional culture, so that the young are gradually losing the beauty in the national manner. Vietnam must also take this as a lesson.

b. Careful forms of address

The Vietnamese language has a very complex system of pronouns of address that very clearly shows attitude, rank and standing between speaker and listener. So we must be careful in using pronouns of address, skilfully, to show respect to others.

We should drop the words thằng and con before a person's name. For example, we should say only Hùng, Sơn, Thúy and not "thằng Hùng", "thằng Sơn", "con Thúy"…

When speaking about people in the third person, singular or plural, avoid the words nó, bọn họ, mấy đứa đó, cái đám đó… If the person is of the same or lower rank than us, we should call them by name when speaking of someone absent. For example say: Tuấn gave me this book, and now I would like to give it to you. If you meet Tuấn, please send him my regards. Absolutely do not say: "If you meet nó, say I send my regards to nó."

Vietnamese people have a bad habit of calling artists thằng and con. Even the actor who played the Tang monk Xuanzang is called "thằng Tang Seng". Adults call artists this way with contempt, so children imitate and call them the same. It is truly insolent for a child to call thằng an artist old enough to be the child's parent. This is a black mark on Vietnamese culture and damages merit greatly.

Practitioners in temples do not escape that bad habit of the world either, and call each other with the same contemptuous tone. In some temples, senior monks call the junior monks thằng. And sometimes a few monks call the nuns con. It is truly incomprehensible!

In some cases a few monks are so close to each other that behind their backs they call each other thằng. This is unacceptable in the dignified conduct and fine behaviour of a practitioner.

Lay Buddhists never approve of monks addressing each other without respect. They never want to hear one monk call another thằng or nó, because these are all people whom they must address as "Venerable" while calling themselves "child".

Worse still, sometimes a senior fellow monk or nun addresses younger ones as mày and tao ("you" and "I" in an insulting register). In some regions where Buddhism is affected by leftovers of feudalism, those above address those below in an extremely contemptuous way. Hearing such disrespectful forms of address, we know at once that the Buddhism there is not flourishing; if there is anything, it is only on the surface.

Let us listen to the Nikāya texts, where the bhikkhus call each other "worthy one" (hiền giả, Pali āvuso). How gentle and polite! Even Venerable Sāriputta, the foremost in the assembly, still calls the other bhikkhus "worthy one". That is truly the conduct of a saint. Of course now we cannot call each other as in the old days, but we are also not allowed to call each other superficially, over-familiarly, disrespectfully and without culture.

When talking with lay Buddhists about another monk or nun, we must add the word "Venerable" (thầy) or "Sister" (cô) before the Dharma name. That is, however the lay Buddhists respect that monk or nun, we must respect them in just the same way, even if sometimes our rank is higher than theirs. For example we will say to lay Buddhists that Venerable Minh Trí is like this, Venerable Minh Trí is like that; or Sister Như Tuệ says, Sister Như Tuệ says that…

c. Knowing how to listen to others' opinions

Another sign of the Humble mind is knowing how to listen to others' opinions. A person's opinion represents that person. If we respect people, we must respect their opinions. That is the basic principle. Of course not every opinion is right, but the attitude of listening is already an expression of respect for people. When listening, we will agree with some points and disagree with others, but what matters in ethics is first to care about the viewpoint of others.

Some people have the flaw of often rejecting others' opinions before they have finished a sentence. That is a very clear sign of conceit. We too, if we like to brush aside others' opinions, must know that conceit already reigns in our mind.

In fact we do not learn right and wrong and the Dharma only at school; we must learn right in life itself. Among the many people we meet, there will be many things worth learning from them. Sometimes we see their actions and find a great lesson; sometimes we hear a remark of theirs and find many interesting things. Almost everyone has something good somewhere. If we are modest, we will gather many useful lessons from many people in life. The conceited mind, though, will block us so that we do not see the good in others.

It is the conceited mind that pushes us to scrutinise others' faults and overlook their strengths. Because of conceit, we want those around us to be poor and bad so that only we are good and able. So we need only see someone stir and we have guessed a fault, sometimes inferring faster than the truth; that is, we need only see someone raise a hand and we guess at once that this person is about to pick a pocket! The tendency to like thinking ill of others clearly has its source in conceit.

When we are humble, seeing ourselves as ordinary and small, we naturally find it easy to see others' strengths and learn from them. That is also what motivates us to listen to others' opinions. Then when we find good things in others, our heart rejoices and praises. And when we know how to rejoice at others' strengths, the law of cause and effect will give us a similar good result in the future. When we admire, rejoice in and praise the good in others, that good naturally attaches to our mind and becomes ours without much effort of cultivation.

For example, we see a person with a remarkable composed character and feel admiration. Later we naturally begin to have a similar composed character.

Or we admire someone diligent in voluntary service and labour, and naturally later we too become diligent in the same way.

The humble mind is like a deep hollow into which all the water pours. A humble person gradually gathers countless good qualities of the world. Laozi has a famous saying: Why is the sea king of a hundred rivers? Because the sea is low and the rivers are high, so the rivers must flow to it. In the same way, because we are lowered, the strengths of everyone come and settle in us. If we stand tall like a towering rock mountain, the strengths gradually flow away entirely. When conceited, we become ever more isolated and barren, like that dry rock mountain.

We should note a rather important point while cultivating the humble mind, which is to avoid the view that one's own method is the only one. Usually when we choose a method to practise, we have already judged it to be the best, the most superior. And an inevitable consequence follows: thinking we are better than those practising other methods. We do not know what the results of practice will be later, but in the present we are already falling into the fault of conceit.

A person practising the Pure Land school will think Pure Land is best; a person practising the Zen school will think Zen is best. Then even within Zen there are many different schools, and each school again thinks it is the best. When we think we are the best, another consequence follows: sparing no words of disparagement for other people, other schools, other sects, other methods. This mutual disparagement means Buddhism can never unite.

The psychological process above is perfectly natural, but extremely toxic! We must try our utmost to escape that toxic psychological law by ending the belief that there really is one method that is perfect and clearly better than all others.

In fact this fault does not begin with the disciple but with the teacher himself. It is the teacher who sows in the disciple's heart the thought that practising his method is the most excellent of all, meaning that the teacher is the best, and that in the future this disciple will be the best. When first coming to the Path, the disciple is not yet overrun by conceit, but the teacher's exclusive way of teaching ruins the disciple's original mind.

Today we must free ourselves from the exclusive thinking that has ruined our minds and also divided Buddhism. When choosing a method to practise and a teacher to follow, we should find out whether that approach helps us become humble, and whether it is compassionate. If that approach, that teacher, teaches us to be unmoved in adversity but to be compassionate before the suffering of beings, then that teacher is right. If that teacher is reserved and dares not disparage anyone, knowing that every method has strengths and weaknesses and every method suits some people and suits others less, then that teacher is genuine and we can follow him.

Conversely, if that teacher keeps easily promising that following him will quickly make us more advanced than everyone, we should beware. Especially teachers who keep attacking approaches different from their own are often false teachers. When we meet such teachers, we should bow deeply and withdraw.

But the strange thing is that a teacher who loudly praises his own method as the best usually quickly gains many followers. It seems people are a little too easy to convince. But later, when that style of teaching has made the disciples seriously conceited, mistakes and corruption appear and that practice centre collapses.

We also see that many new sects have recently appeared around the world. Every founder claims to be the only representative of God. The "founders" are free to lie, and some people are bound to believe. Then the believers help advertise the founder further. Sometimes they draw a great many followers before collapsing.

Occasionally we also hear that in Buddhism there are people who claim to be equal to the Buddha, even greater than the Buddha, replacing the Buddha in this new age. They too make many gullible people believe for a time, but then the truth shows itself not long after.

Genuine teachers are usually reserved and modest, seldom exalt themselves, and are careful not to disparage others, even though they have deep wisdom. At first such a teacher is rarely understood and few follow him. But later many people gain firm benefit from that approach, and it will grow.

4. KARMIC RESULTS

When there is conceit, the road ahead gradually closes. This person will be blocked, and will break down and fail. Even though at times we are making progress on the path, if conceit is already present that progress cannot reach the immeasurable and boundless, and just goes up and down forever. So we can never reach the day of complete attainment of the path.

For example, a person in this life is a district official and accumulates some merit, so in the next life is a provincial official, earns some more merit, and in the life after that is a king. But because as king they gave rise to a conceited mind, in the next life they drop to being a commoner. As a commoner they again know how to create merit, so in the following life they are an official again. It goes round and round like this forever and cannot rise to higher and farther realms of the universe.

But Bodhisattvas, who have destroyed the conceited mind, advance in merit towards the immeasurable and boundless; sometimes they become kings of the whole heaven, gradually bring benefit to countless beings, become Great Bodhisattvas, and finally attain perfect and absolute Buddhahood.

In practice too, even if we attain a little power of concentration, we should not be conceited but should know we are still poor and can still regress and fall. At all times we must be reserved and careful, respect everyone, and monitor every small thought so that the power of concentration advances slowly, bit by bit.

For as long as we can keep humility, our merit grows; for as long as that, we remain a genuine practitioner. In later lives we continue to accomplish virtue, talent and position. If we lose the humble mind, the good things in our mind will gradually be lost and gradually break down.

Humility and compassion support No-self

The important goal in practising the Buddha's Teaching is No-self. Only with No-self is there liberation. Meditative concentration is the main road to No-self. But the two practices of Compassion and Humility are a very great support. Lacking these two practices, we easily lose our way even if we attain lofty meditative concentration.

The two practices above also support each other greatly, because both thin out clinging to self. With humility, we easily love people; with compassion, we also easily respect people.

Then, on the journey of practice ahead, sometimes we will also do many good things. But those are precisely the times when we must quickly control our proud, conceited mind, and always remind ourselves that we are only dust, sand and straw. That is the efficacious mantra to counter the conceited mind whenever we want to praise ourselves, or someone praises us.

Question: Might people look down on us if we have a cringing, modest attitude?

Answer: If we are still looked down on by others, it means we do not yet have enough merit; just keep respecting everyone. Later, when we have enough merit, we will naturally be loved and respected.